


Lethal

by smokalicious



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Gendrya - Freeform, Possible smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2018-12-05 18:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11583882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smokalicious/pseuds/smokalicious
Summary: Arya comes to the club by herself just to see him. Gendry Waters, the mysterious bartender.





	1. Chapter One

 

Arya Stark was beyond underage. She didn’t even look twenty one. But, her ID definitely said she was. If the bouncer at the club had half a brain he would have kicked her to the curb the moment he laid eyes on her. But, he didn’t seem to care. Sandor was the name on the small white name tag on his black shirt in blue cursive. He was a large man with an ugly scar on his face. He always had his arms crossed firmly over his wide chest. He was over a foot and a half taller than her so she might as well come across as a twelve year old instead of a sixteen year old. But, all he did was take the small plastic rectangle from her hands, wave a black light over it and let her into the club.

She wasn’t much of a clubber. The whole scene of men and women surrounding her while grinding up against one another made her feel nauseous. This wasn’t her thing. She liked simple gatherings with a lot of alcohol. The only good thing about this place was that it was packed with all the alcohol a human being could possibly ask for. Plus the main reason she went there. 

Gendry Waters, a twenty one year old bartender with utterly distracting muscles. His face wasn’t too bad, either. His muscles were tone, his jawline was strong. He had facial hair a few shades off from the black hair ontop of his head which made her wonder if it was dyed. 

He always smiled at her. His teeth were white but crooked. Regardless of the quality, she still found his laugh like music to her ears and art to her eyes. He never spoke to her. He probably knew she wasn’t old enough to be there. But, that didn’t stop him from serving her drinks. From what she could tell he flirted with any pretty little thing that walked her way up to the arrangement of stools in order to get tips. She wasn’t about to lie and say that wasn’t exactly what she would do if she were attractive and in need of money. He never flirted with her. It made her feel ugly. But, she couldn’t blame him. She practically screamed jail bait. According to Theon, at least. 

“What’ll it be today?” He asked, his smile even brighter than it had been the last time she’d seen him. She didn’t manage to sneak out to come here  _ every  _ night, unfortunately. Only the nights when she told her parents she’d be sleeping at her friend Mary’s house. Who, as it seemed, wasn’t allowed to have people over. But, Ned and Catelyn Stark didn’t need to know that.

“Gingerale.” She ordered, stupidly. Usually she got beer or vodka. But, she didn’t feel like waking up with a headache and the lack of a will to live the next morning this time. 

“Very uncharacteristic of you, gray eyes.” He said. She felt the heat rise to the tips of her ears and the height of her cheeks. 

“How so?” She asked. Her heart thudded. She felt like an idiot. Puberty made her think of things she’d never thought of before. Sansa had practically come out of the womb babbling about boys. But, Arya had never felt the attraction. That was, until she turned thirteen and got her period. Then puberty emerged from her like a swarm of wasps from a nest. The absolute highlight of her hell. 

“You usually like to get pretty fucked up.” He said. “Or so I assume. You drink three glasses of vodka and then stumble out.”

“Not this time, unfortunately. My beloved partner in crime is away. With his new girlfriend.” She explained. She usually went here with Jon. He knew she drank, he knew she smoked, he knew she snuck out. He knew a lot of about her because he’d never made her feel the need to hide things. She trusted him. He trusted her, too. But, the amount he worried about her outran that and made him force himself to come with her.

“Did he break up with you?” Gendry asked. She nearly choked on her own spit.

“ _ God,  _ no.” She said, all too quickly. “He’s my brother. Jon’s my brother. He didn’t break up with me. He’s my brother. Gross.”

Gendry laughed at that. She was stumbling over her words. She hated it when people assumed she was dating Jon. It made her feel gross. It made her feel comparable to Cersei Lannister the notorious twin fucker. 

“My bad. That explains why he scowls at me all the time. And every boy who lays his eyes on you.” He said. That made her wonder. Was the reason Gendry never spoke to her because Jon had intimidating him? Half of the boulder that was weighing on her had suddenly been lifted. But, the other half remained to keep her grounded. If she thought for even a second that Gendry was interested in her she’d just make herself disappointed. He probably had a girlfriend or something. Someone pretty with long hair and normal sized eyes. All she had was ratty, shoulder length shit brown hair and bug like gray eyes. 

“Boys don’t look at me that much. So, he doesn’t have too much to worry about in that department I guess.” She said. She felt the sudden need to avoid eye contact. She stared at the bottles behind them and read each label as best she could. The print was small and her eyesight sucked. 

“That’s definitely not true. I see at least ten guys staring at you every time you come in here.” He explained. He leaned forward so his elbows were against the bar and his face was nearer to hers. She didn’t move. She couldn’t find it in her to move away. She felt like she’d been turned to stone. 

“One third is staring at your face. Your eyes, your nose, your hair, your  _ lips. _ ” He explained. He licked his own lips and kept eyecontact with her. Her eyelids felt heavy but she maintained eyecontact. She wanted to look away, but something in her brain kept her from doing so. Testosterone. She’d learned about that in health class. It was the scientific way of boys  _ literally  _ putting a spell on girls. 

He continued. “The other third, though. They’re not looking at your face much. They’re looking at your ass. The way it just slightly hangs off the bar stool. The way your skin stretches out the material of your jeans and makes the pockets seem even further than each other. This third also happens to be staring at your tits. They can usually tell when you’re not wearing a bra because the first thing they’re looking for pokes out on either side of your shirt when it gets a bit nippy in here.” 

She wasn’t sure why but part of her wanted to laugh. She felt embarrassed. She felt like he was  _ teasing  _ her. But, she should know better and she knew she shouldn’t assume the worst. He sounded serious but for all she knew he was being an asshole. Trying to make a fool out of her in front of everyone. But, she briefly looked around. No one was paying attention. No one  _ cared _ . It wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been.

“The final third. Is staring at whatever you’re drinking. They’re staring at your hand as each of your fingers wraps around the very glass or bottle I hand you. They’re looking at the color of the drink, the texture. They’re looking at the way you pay attention to the drink. Why are they doing this? Because they’re sick.” He explained. The tone of his voice had gotten more serious. Her eyebrows wrinkled together. “They’re twisted men with urges inexplicable. They want to put roofies in your drink and take advantage of your innocence.” 

“Where did that come from?” She asked quietly. Almost too quietly to be heard.

“It’s been the truth ever since you started coming here. Some of the men here have thoughts unimaginable by minds like yours and mine. But, that doesn’t stop them from doing ugly things to pretty girls. You shouldn’t come here alone.” He said. Suddenly she felt like she was being lectured by a parent or an older sibling. She ground her teeth together.

“I can take care of myself.” She said bitterly.

“I believe that. But, even I couldn’t stop a man from taking advantage of me if he’d drugged me. And it’s far more likely you’ll be drugged than fought.” He sounded like her father. Or worse,  _ Jon _ . “And, you know what. Sometimes girls like you drink so much that you do the job for perverts. So, bring friends when you come to clubs like these. Especially if no one knows where you are.” 

He’d begun to clean out a glass. A clear round one that looked like the ones she’d seen in her fathers studies. The same kind Jon, Robb, and Bran had their first drinks of scotch in. Arya’s father had never offered her a first drink because it wasn’t ladylike or as traditional as giving your son their first drink. Little did he knew she’d been drinking his scotch since she was twelve. She remembred the first taste of the stuff, she hated it. She’d cringed and spat it out onto her skirt. Bran had laughed at her. He was a year younger than her and had yet to have his  _ first drink _ with their father for nearly three years.

“Who says no one knows where I am?” She challenged, stubbornly. No one knew where she was. Not even Jon. She hadn’t bothered she was so angry with him. Frustrated that he’d chosen to spend the night at Ygritte’s house instead of going out with her. A stupid mistake, she’d suddenly realized. All she had to protect herself was a half empty can of pepper spray in the purse that had been hanging off her shoulder. She brought it closer to her and placed it on her lap.

“Because you snuck out, of course. Who thinks to tell anyone where they’re going if they’re running away? Even if it is just for the night.” He spoke like a cliche tumblr post and she hated him for it. 

“Who says I snuck out?” She was pathetically insecure about the fact that she was so much younger than him. Younger than everyone else in here. She was still so pubescent that her hips hadn’t fully grown yet. There was a small set of hips followed by a gap followed by a set of thick thighs that she’d always hated. Her butt wasn’t anything to gauc over. 

“Who lets their underage kid out of the house this late at night to go to a club and drink gingerale and vodka all hours of the night while a much older young gentleman lectures her on daterape?” He asked. She rolled her eyes and scoffed. He was absolutely right, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. She’d always been like this, according to her mother. Her mother had always told her she was just like a Stark was supposed to be. Which also happened to be the opposite of a Tully. 

“Why do you think I’m underage?” She asked. She knew why one might think she was underage. Her cheeks were chubby and she was half a foot taller than most. 

“It’s not because you’re any less pretty than the other girls in here, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He said. He licked his lips and continued to roll the white cloth through the details of the glass. She felt like blushing again. But, she didn’t, luckily. “Clegane told me.” He motioned towards the entrance.

“Did he, now? If he knows I’m underage why is he letting me in?” She asked. She knew Sandor probably wasn’t an idiot. He was careless, sure. But, not stupid. The question was, why make the exception?

“Maybe you’re special.” He said with a shrug. She couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. 

“I’m not special.” 

“Who says?”

“The entire junior year.”

“So you are underage.”

“Did I say highschool? No, I didn’t. For all you know I’m in the most prestigious of universities and I get rid of the stress through the nightly drink.” She snapped. She was getting frustrated. If she had anything to worry about from the attractive bartender before her she would already be sitting in the back office waiting for her parents to pick her up. 

“You’re what, sixteen? Seventeen? There’s no need to lie I don’t care. At least I didn’t when you had your brother to look after you.” He said. 

“I’m only drinking gingerale.” She defended.

“Gingerale can still be spiked.” He said.

“Well, then you look after me. I don’t know what to tell you. Unless you intend on calling my parents or kicking me out I’m not leaving.” She said. If she came home now she’d get caught. She’d only barely managed to sneak past a passed out Rickon in the front room in front of the television. She had to wait for her mother to come down stairs and make Rickon go to bed then go to bed herself for Arya to sneak back. Which would take a few hours. 

“In case you couldn’t tell, sweetheart. I’m working.” He said. She rolled her eyes at  _ sweetheart _ even though it made her heart pang against her chest. 

“Guess I’ll just leave and get into another bar where the staff is less annoying.” She threatened. She was being manipulative and she knew perfectly well what she was doing. That didn’t stop her. 

She went up to leave, as dramatically as she could but was stopped by his words.

“Don’t.” She returned to her seat almost immedietly. “Look, I get off in half an hour tonight. Stick to the bar then I’ll look after you while you do whatever it is you do on a late Friday night, okay?”

“Okay.” She said. No resisting. She wasn’t going to ruin this by being the idiot she was. 

He placed the glass on the bar and poured gingerale into it. He even added a small red umbrella like the cheaky little asshole he was. He smiled as he pushed it towards her. She returned the smile (a little more sarcastically) and took a sip of the drink. Suddenly she regretted not ordering vodka. But, then again, he probably wouldn’t have given it to her anyways. 

“I have other customers to attend to. Stay put or I’ll track you down.” He warned. She felt tingly at the tone of his voice.

“You sound more like a predator than any of the other men I’ve met in this bar.” She said. She was half hoping for a snarky reply out of him. But, he didn’t reply at all. He walked over to one of the others that had been sitting at the bar. Of course, he just had to attend to a female. God, her sounded like an idiot in her head. She was a customer just as much as anyone else, eventually he’d  _ have  _ to get around to her. She felt jealous when he wasn’t even hers to be jealous for. She barely knew him. She felt like Sansa had been around Joffrey which hadn’t ended well at all. 

She stared at the arrangement of alcohol bottles. Many different pretentious brands of vodka, whiskey, schnapps, wine, beer, and many more piled together to make the place look more classy and modernly stylish. 

Arya played with the small tooth pick based umbrella and watched as it made the drink move. She was more interested in watching it than she was with actually drinking it. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the taste it was just the fact that it wouldn’t have her drunk that left her bored. She wanted to sneak out and smoke a cigarette but Gendry had been very clear about the fact that she was to stay put. She felt like a child and hated it.

She watched the way he smiled at the girl who was ordering her drink with a side of heavy flirtation. She was pretty. She had long blonde hair that looked messy but in an attractive  _ sexy  _ way. Arya couldn’t tell but she was sure the girl had blue eyes just like Gendry. Her smile was almost as big as her teeth. They were white but it didn’t look natural. The tan on her skin definitely was, though. Arya hadn’t been very pale but ever since she’d moved to King’s Landing the sun had kissed her skin and burned her back like a dragon would to an entire town. If only dragons were real.

She slumped against the bar with her arm holding her head. She’d barely touched the gingerale. She’d just let it stay there in place while the bubbled faded. It almost looked like whiskey. But, she knew it wouldn’t get her drunk.

It felt ironic to be in a bar but not drink. In the North that’s all anyone ever did. Which was also ironic considering the biggest drunk of them all lived in the South. Robert Baratheon, to be exact.

Gendry’s shift had lasted exactly thirty minutes on the dot. She’d been checking times on her phone. Minute for minute. It felt like a montage of time passing on a wall clock but not as quick. She felt like she was going to drift to sleep before he was done. Right when she’d let her eyelids flutter closed she’d felt him tap her shoulder. She jumped, nearly knocking her drink over.

Scowling at him she said, “Took you long enough.”

“It took me as long as I said it would take me. With time to spare. I managed to clock out and everything.” He said looking very proud of himself with the great big grin on his face.

“Impecible.” She remarked sarcastically.

“What would you like to do?” He asked.

“Can we get shit faced.” He gave her a look. “My bad,  _ may  _ we get shit faced?”

“Do you have alcohol?” He asked. She rolled her eyes. 

“I have money. There’s a liquor store across the street if you find it too embarrassing to buy alcohol from your own place of work. Even though it’s a fucking  _ bar _ .” She said.

“I don’t want to get drunk.” He said. She narrowed her eyes. “I have to deal with drunk idiots every night. I’d prefer not to become one of them.”

“Fair enough, I guess. Let’s sit and smoke.” She offered.

“Fuck it, fine. Not in here, though. A lot of people have the tendency to get complainy whenever someone smokes. I don’t need the shit from my manager.” He said. He worried too much. About work, at least. She had yet to figure out what he was like outside of it. She could tell he was a good guy. At least, he seemed like one but for all she knew it was just a mask to lure girls into his trap. She rumaged through her bag, pretending to be making sure that her pack of cigarettes was still there but  _ really  _ trying to make sure she still had the pepper spray her dad had given her a couple of months ago. She wanted to trust him, but she wasn’t the best at that sort of thing.

“Where, then?” She asked. 

“Follow me and you’ll see.” He said. So, she did. She followed close behind him as he made his way through the crowd of people. There weren’t as many as there typically was. Especially not for a friday night.

He led her out the back entrance which read exit in thick red letters. It also had the words  _ emergency exit only  _ printed next to the handle. She didn’t care if he didn’t. No sounds had gone off like they did at McDonalds, though. So that was lucky. 

He led her to the fire escape. The club was low budget and also happened to be located just under an arrangement of small apartments. He leaned against the the brick wall of the building as she sat against the lowest fire escape level. She took the pack of Marlboro Reds from her bag and attempted to light it with the clear, green, glass lighter she’d gotten from the dollar store. It wouldn’t work. She grunted in frustration but Gendry made his way over to her with a orange bic lighter in his hand. 

She looked at him with big eyes and he looked down at the cigarette. His pupils were dilated from the darkness. She kept her lips around the cigarette as he lit it for her. There was a cool breeze through the air so he used one of his hands to block the wind. He had big hands and thick fingers. She swallowed roughly.

“Thanks.” She siad once it was lit. A cloud of smoke came out as she spoke. She took another long hit before passing it to him. He returned to the wall to lean against it looking like an angsty tumblr boy, yet again.

“May I note how fucking glad I am you don’t smoke menthols. I fucking hate menthols.” He said.

“Me too.” She agreed. “Only satanists smoke menthols, honestly.”

He laughed at that. His smile was genuine. She liked that.

“What’s your name?” She asked. Despite the obvious.

“Shut up. You know my name.” He scoffed.

“No I don’t.” She continued to lie.

“ _ Yes _ , you do.” He pressed.

“Fuck you. It’s Gendry, isn’t it?” She said. His smile got wider. He had dimples. Just like her. 

“Yes, yes it is. Now, I only know yours from what your  _ brother  _ has called you. Arya?” He asked.

“The one and only. Sort of. Not really. There are a lot of Arya’s out there it’s a common name in the North.” She over explained. 

“So you’re from the North? You look Northern. Dark hair and the fact that you’re not freezing.” He said.

“Freezing? It’s not cold.” She said.

“ _ Yes _ , it is. For the South, at least.” He said. She full out laughed at him. So much so she’d almost knocked the cigarette out of his hands when he’d tried to hand it back to her. 

“Honey, this is  _ not _ cold. In the North it gets so cold I have to wear three jackets to not feel it.” She said. “It’s so hot here that my dog whimpers by the door and sheds  _ everywhere  _ to the point where my mother almost had them shaved.”

“You have a dog? I love dogs.” He said. 

“I have six dogs, technically. I have mine then my siblings have theirs.” She said.

“ _ Five  _ siblings?” He asked.

“Five siblings.” She confirmed.

“That’s a lot. I have three but I’ve never met them.” He said. He changed the subject as quickly as it was brought on which made her wonder. “What breed is your dog?”

“Direwolf.” She answered boldly. She knew that no one aside from her in the South had a direwolf. They were a northern breed and even then they were extremely rare. They looked like wolves more so than a husky did. They were also much bigger than most dogs. So big that they were almost the side of the large lounging chair her father had in their living room. Her mother didn’t like them very much but her father absolutely adored them.

“Direwolf? I’ve never met anyone who has a direwolf. That’s crazy.” He said.

“Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe creepy men in bars should be afraid of  _ me _ .” She said despite it not being true. She wasn’t intimidating even with her training in the art of wielding a knife against attackers. 

“You look crazy.” He said. He was suddenly in front of her again. He had a hand wrapped around the railing of the fire escape and the other hand was plucking the cigarette from her fingers.

“What makes me appear crazy?” She asked as if daring him. 

He took a quick hit off the cigarette and blew out a triangle of smoke before looking her up and down. She felt like she had a spotlight on her. 

“Your eyes.” He spoke slowly. She watched the way his mouth moved as he smoke. His eyelids looked just as hooded as hers felt. “They’re big. They show how bold you are. You’re reckless and you like it like that. You like doing things that make you feel warm inside. That’s why you sneak out and drink even though you’re underage.”

He wasn’t wrong.

For a moment she almost thought he might kiss her. But, he didn’t. When he attempted to hand her the cigarette she grew frustated. She flicked it to the side so it hit a small puddle on the ground and she dragged Gendry towards her by the collar of his shirt and pressed her lips to his. It was hard and rough at first. At first it was even uncomfortable as the ends of his facial hair scratched against her skin. But, as they got to know eachothers mouths they molded together like clay against the floor on a hot summer day. His lips were soft but chapped at the same time. The wetness of her mouth fixed that by dampening them. He was a good kisser. She’d only kissed a handful of boys and he got the metal for most alluring.

His mouth snuck past her lips and her teeth until it made it’s way to hers. He flicked it against her and she felt her heart race. It beat against her rib cage like a fucking instrument. She moved her arm back until her hand reached the railing and she gripped it as she kissed him. He pulled back before she was ready for him to and smiled down at her. 

The sound of dogs howling filled the air. That made Gendry look startled. She saw as his adam’s apple bobbed quickly up and down up and down. 

“I have to go home. Do you have a ride?” He asked, the tone of his voice rushed and anxious.

“Uber.” She answered, simply.”

“You should get home before it’s too late. Trust me, you don’t want to be out late on a night like this. Promise me you’ll go home.” He sounded like he had somewhere to be. Somewhere better.

“I promise.” She said letting go of the railing. 

“Leave, now.” He said. “Please. I have to get home.”

“Okay.” She said. She stuffed the orange lighter into her purse without even thinking about it and began through the alleyway that led to the main street. She would order the uber over there. She wondered why he was so rushed about it. It made her mind race almost as much as their shared kiss had. She liked kissing him, a lot. So much so that she wanted to do it again. A lot of times. Which wasn’t much she could say for many other boys who had managed to get her to let them kiss her. 

She stopped once she reached the street feeling the sudden urge to run back to him. She felt like a child. Which she was, in many ways. She had his lighter, she realized. She knew perfectly well he wouldn’t miss it. But, she didn’t have any way to contact him and she didn’t like that. It was an excuse. A lame one, but nonetheless.

So, she turned around in hopes that he would still be there. She could just barely see him as she walked. Her thighs felt sore from the way she’d been seating but it wasn’t going to slow her down. She was good at running. 

She could barely see. The only thing lighting her way was the glare of the full moon shining down on her and every building in sight. 

She brought her phone out and turned on the flashlight. Twelve O’clock showed on the home screen. It wasn’t even late. Usually she didn’t go home until two or three in the morning. She didn’t assume her mother would be so fast asleep she wouldn’t notice Arya sneaking back into their home in the middle of the night. 

When she reached Gendry he hadn’t moved much from where they’d been. But, his position was entirely different. He was on all fours on the ground. His back was arched and he was whimpering almost like Arya’s dog did in the heat of the South. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Gendry?” She asked, her tone showing how concerned she was for him.

He snarled at her.

She shone her light at him. His shirt was torn and the outline of his spine poked at his back. It looked unnatural. Her lips turned into a frown and she covered her mouth with her free hand. He looked up at her. His eyes were no longer blue but instead they were an unusual shade of yellow glowing directly at her. His teeth showed past his lips. They were sharp to the very point. 

She screamed as he pounced towards her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boom. Future chapters will be between 2k words and 3.5k words so I can update more quickly!

Arya wasn’t strong or tall but she was fast. She moved out of his way but landed on her ass in the process. Her body shook from the impact of the road and her teeth snapped against each other. Her eyes watered not from fear but the piercing feeling of her elbow skin being scraped. It was bleeding but her focus was on _him._ Whatever he was he was like nothing she’d ever seen. A creature that went from an attractive, mysterious bartender to a horrible, wolf-like beast. 

He turned around, every moment that went by he looked more beast than man. He looked like Shaggydog, Rickon’s direwolf. Except this wasn’t a pet dog that she’d seen eat it’s own vomit. This was a ferocious wolf that had looked at her like she was a deer stalking a forest waiting to be eaten. 

“What the fuck?” She whispered. The shock was too much for her to stand to her feet in that moment. She felt paralyzed. She couldn’t feel her body yet it remained in position. Her bleeding elbows pressed against the ground and her tingling back shaking like a wet cat. Her forehead was sweating despite the cool breeze that hit her face. She could see her breath as it left her mouth. 

He wasn’t walking away from her he was beginning to circle around her. Her heart pounded against her ribcage and her throat felt tight. She couldn’t remember how to stand or how to swallow. The only thing she was capable of doing was moving her eyes to follow him. There was no human parts of him left. 

He growled at her, again, by the time he was back in front of her. She wished she could growl back at him, make him tremble with fear. She didn’t like the position she was in. Vulnerable and cowardly.

He growled once more. It felt like he was trying to communicate with her but all she heard was  _ I’m going to  _ kill  _ you.  _ She didn’t want to die. Not like this, in the alleyway at the side of a bar she was too young for with a three week old pack of cigarettes in her purse and tobacco on her breath. Not at the hands of an  _ animal _ that would never be prosecuted because it was too bizarre to believe.

“Fuck  _ off _ .” She snapped back. The words were dry and the back of her throat croaked. 

He didn’t fuck off. She grabbed a small pieces of rubble off the ground and threw it at his stomach. She threw it as hard as she could. Instant regret flew through her and she ground her teeth roughly as quickly pounced towards her and scratched her on her arm. Blood surfaced instantly and she cried out in pain. Tears ran down her cheeks. She hated crying. Not as much as she hated being scratched by shapeshifting monsters.

She wanted to clutch the wound but she knew that’d be a bad idea. She wasn’t sure what to do. The wound stung and every time the wind blew in it’s direction it felt like a nail gun was being shot into her over and over.

He lowered his head but he was growling quietly. She backed away slightly. She was slowly remembering how to move her body. The shock of it all was still there but she was growing less numb. The pain woke her up. But, she was still shaking.

“ _ Asshole _ .” She mumbled under her breath. “ _ Asshole, asshole, asshole. _ ” 

Nobody was listening. He was stalking away from her. She stood to her feet in a sudden movement, regrettably. She felt like she was going to topple over. He’d torn her shirt with his claws. The wound wasn’t that deep, she realized once she got a good look at it. Still, it made her want to sob. But, she didn’t. That wouldn’t do anything.

She walked towards a black metal door at the side of the club. Her hand rested against it but she didn’t push yet. She pressed her forehead against it and closed her eyes tightly. She opened the door with the little energy she could conjure up. It made her feel like she was going to pass out right then and there. 

She made her way through the crowd. They were loud but no one paid her any attention. She was bleeding from her right arm and both of her elbows but she may as well have been invisible. Not a pair of eyes were on her. But, she somehow was looking at everyone at once. There were pairs of people kissing and touching each other. There were even pairs of people fighting with each other in front of everyone. She saw a girl with mascara running down her face and her head fell down into the palms of her hands as her boyfriend rolled his eyes at her.

Somehow, observing the people around her made her feel more calm. But, her legs were still wobbly.

When she reached the bathroom she shoved the door inward and stumbled to the sink which already had a bunch of water coating it. She looked at her reflection before she did anything. She had dark, purple bags under her eyes and her skin was two shades paler than it normally was. Her body's reaction to the wound were far more drastic than they should have been. What she saw was playing with her mind, making her weaker than she really was. She felt like a weak little mouse compared to the big bald wolf who had frightened her into hiding in the women's bathroom of the club.

She pulled paper towels out of the dispenser and turned on the sink. She hated the feeling of cheap paper towels scratching against her skin. She ran the paper under the water and began to dab at the blood. She ground her teeth every time she crazed the scratch. His claws were too sharp to be considered normal. But, nothing about him was normal. He was an enigma. 

When she got the dry blood off of her skin she reached into her pocket and unlocked her phone. The only person she could call was Jon. That wasn’t true. She could call Sansa or Robb or Theon. They all had their licenses. But, she knew Robb would be angry with her and Sansa would judge her. Theon… He would tease her to no end and she would have to punch him in the nose. That would just ruin her arm wound.

Jon would be  _ pissed _ . But, all anger he felt would disappear the moment she saw her arm. Then he’d turn into that crazy protective older brother she knew and had to love. She didn’t  _ like  _ it when he worried but at least she knew he wouldn’t tell her mom. Robb definitely would. Theon might not. Arya expected Sansa to, but Sansa wasn’t as bad as she used to be. 

Yet, she dialed Jon’s number. He was with Ygritte again. Arya  _ liked  _ Ygritte, there was no doubt about that. But, what she didn’t like was the fact that Jon was ditching her.

“Arya?” Jon answered, he sounded alert and wide awake. He’d answered the phone faster than she expected.

“Jon.” She said trying to find the words to explain her situation. 

“What’s up?” He asked.

“Can you pick me up?” She asked.

“What? Why? From where?” He asked. Several more questions followed that but she ignored them. 

“Shut up for a second.” She asked. He did, surprisingly. “I’m at the club we usually go to. I can’t remember the god damn name but the one with the scary bouncer with the scars on his face. I’m in the bathroom and a dog scratched the shit out of my arm.”

“How the hell did you get scratched by a dog in the club?” He asked. Sometimes JOn wasn’t too bright. He was resourceful and a leader figure but he could be clueless.

“Not  _ in  _ the club, Jon. Outside of it I was about to uber home but the dog showed up out of nowhere. Some dogs aren’t that nice, who knew.” She was lying out of her ass. But, she knew if she tried to tell him what happened he would never believe her. She barely believed herself.

“Why can’t you uber home right now?” He asked.

“Because I’m bleeding.”

“What? How sharp were his nails? What kind of dog was this?” He began to ramble on with his questions again and she rolled her eyes back into her skull.

“Shut up, Jon. It was a big mean dog with an attitude problem. I thought maybe he had a heart of gold but I guess I was wrong. I just don’t want to bleed all over an uber car at midnight.” She tried to calm herself down but it wasn’t working. She sighed and leaned against the counter, water getting all over her bottoms. “Will you please come pick me up?”

He sighed into the phone. “Fine. I’m on my way. Don’t pet any more stray dogs.”

“No promises.”

“ _ Arya _ .” 

“I’m kidding. Probably.”

“ _ Ary _ -” He began but she hung up the phone and pulled the bathroom door open. He’d told her that Ygritte lived near the bar so she didn’t expect him to take very long. She hoped he didn’t because she wanted to leave. She wouldn’t leave the club, though. She worried he was still out there. Lurking around waiting for her to come out so he could bite her face off and swallow it whole. 

Sandor Clegane was still working. She noticed it before she was anywhere near the exit. He towered over every single person in the club. He was well over six feet tall. He was the embodiment of a person who won the  _ guess my weight _ thing at carnivals. 

She sat down near the exit, one of the only places that wasn’t completely swarmed with people. People were probably trying to distance themselves from Clegane. She wasn’t afraid of him as long as he didn’t turn into a god damned wolf. What were the odds of that happening twice in the same day? Slim.

Jon was texting her that he was here before she could realize how little time had gone by. It was either Ygritte really did live close to the bar or Jon had a large number of tickets coming his way. It didn’t matter. Not in that moment, at least. She needed to get home and cover her wound before it got infected. She remembered when she was a kid she fell out of a low tree and got a cut on her side. She and Bran weren’t supposed to be climbing trees so neither of them told their mom. It had gotten all green and yellow and puss-ey. Her father had gotten so mad at her when he saw it. But, he always forgave her easily.

Arya gave Jon a brief explanation when she’d gotten into the car. He wasn’t very happy with her. He barely spoke to her. She hated it when he did that. It left her alone with her thoughts and that night her thoughts were dark and swimming. She wasn’t as shaky as she was before but the sight of him crawling towards her with his teeth bared was unforgettable.

He had claws.

And fangs.

His eyes were golden. It was utterly abnormal. Her eyes wanted to reject the very sight of them. Him. In the form of whatever he was. She couldn’t fathom. Her head ached whenever she tried to put the pieces together. 

Jon hadn’t come inside after dropping her off. He’d watched her walk all the way up the steps and into the door before he drove away. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to face the wrath of Catelyn Stark if she found Arya sneaking in at one in the morning. 

She felt like a ghost standing in front of her own body as it moved throughout her unbelievably large house. Rickon was still passed out in front of the television that was playing some television show he was obsessed with so she kept her pace as slowly as she could so her mother wouldn’t end up barging through her doors and yell at her for sneaking out. 

Her room was at the end of the long hall of doors. Their house had exactly seven bedrooms. Jon had taken the small space in the basement as his room. Which Arya had always envied. It was closed off from everyone else. At first, Catelyn hadn’t liked it. She barely wanted him living with them to begin with let alone have a bedroom bigger than her oldest sons. But, in the end she allowed it because at least she wouldn’t have to sleep on the same floor as him. Her mother was like that. A woman with the amount of children as she had, only had so much love to give. Sansa, Bran, Rickon and Robb had taken up most of it, Arya supposed. Theon never expected any, nor did Jon. But, Arya had hoped she’d get more than she was given. Her mother loved her, she knew that. But, she didn’t like her. Not the way she was. 

Even if she lacked the Tully genes that made a gracious lady, she was still a Stark and that was the truth. She was a direwolf, she had the look, she had the pride. Dull brown hair, gray eyes, and a long face. She wasn’t beautiful but she represented something more than that. Ironic how she was the one with the wolf blood but Gendry was something of an animal. 

The thoughts of family calmed her again. But, the reminder her subconscious had given her of Gendry had left her back where she was. She felt confused, mostly. She wasn’t sure if she was afraid. Fear wasn’t something so easily understood. 

She was forced to share a bathroom with Sansa all her life. It was in the middle of their two bedrooms between two doors. Sansa had hair products, hair ties, makeup, and perfume scattering her sink. Arya had makeup, too. But, not nearly as much. She had a hairbrush and a hair straightener while Sansa had at least three brushes, a straightener, a crimper, a curling iron, and god knows what else. Arya wasn’t about to deny the fact that she’d used plenty of Sansa’s things without asking. But, it was a lot. 

Arya opened the small mirror on the wall of her half and took out bandaids and hydrogen peroxide. All she had was scooby doo bandaids. Just her luck. She’d have to go to the store in the morning to get gauze bandages.  

She took off her shirt and set it on the counter. Her sleeve had been completely ruined. It looked cool but the memory behind it would be haunting. 

The cut didn’t look deep enough to need stitches. But, she’d probably have a scar or two. 

She poured the peroxide over her wounds and winced a little as the coldness hit her skin. It bubbled around the wound. She barely felt it. Yet, her eyes still burned with pending tears. They didn’t fall. She closed her eyes to make sure they didn’t. She wouldn’t cry.

Arya used a towel to wipe her arm and put her shirt back over her head. She felt exhausted but she didn’t imagine she’d be able to sleep well. There was no way she’d be able to make her mind shut off, not now. She dragged herself down the stairs, one step at a time with her hair swinging in front of her face. She barely paid attention to where she was going. Her mind was lost and her legs did all the work. 

Rickon was still passed out on the couch. Catelyn had probably managed to find sleep for once without worrying about him. She was always one to worry about her boys. Especially Rickon and Bran, who were the youngest. She had her soft spots for Sansa and Robb. Arya was always the odd man out.

Bran, though.

Bran was undoubtedly Catelyn’s favorite. Especially after his accident. He was paralyzed from the waist down, unable to use his legs. She had been heartbroken over his fall. She’d warned him time and time again not to climb the trees around the wood near their house. But, he never listened. He was a lot like Arya in that sense. He would tell their parents that he would be careful and cautious while in reality he was always looking for an adventure. It saddened Arya to think that he wouldn’t be able to explore.

Rickon had his mouth hanging open and his arm over the side of the couch. His legs were sprawled and there was only a small space for Arya to sit. She kept to herself, she didn’t speak and she didn’t wake him up. She didn’t even change the channel on the TV. He was watching some dumb show about hunters and bears. Arya had an arrangement of scooby doo bandaids around her arm that were beginning to irritate her. 

She heard howling and she jumped. Her heart panged in her chest. Her breath quickened and she looked to her side. It was Nymeria, her direwolf. She put a palm over her own chest and leaned back into her seat. Of course it was the direwolves. 

She looked back to the dogs that were roaming the backyard. Arya hated making them sleep outside but Catelyn said they were much too loud to sleep inside all night. The more she looked at them the more thoughts came into her head.

_ Promise me you’ll go home _ , she remembered him telling her. The panic in his voice. She’d just thought he was being concerned and mysterious. But, he didn’t want her to see him. To see him the way he was. He didn’t attack her by his own free will.

_ Trust me, you don’t want to be out late on a night like this.  _ He had warned her. So cryptic and confusing. Out of all the nights, why was this night be a dangerous one? The moon was full. The light was seeping through her windows, past the ugly brown drapes. Ned had chosen them. The one thing Catelyn had actually allowed him to choose in their entire, giant house.

“Arya.” Her thoughts were interrupted by a groggy Rickon to her side. She jumped in place and he laughed at her. “Why are you down here so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She responded. She grabbed at her own sleeve.

“Why not?” He asked.

“I don’t know, I just couldn’t.” She shrugged. She stood to her feet when Nymeria made more noises towards her. Rickon wasn’t paying much attention, his gaze had directed to the TV, per usual. She walked towards Nymeria who was pawing at the door. She crouched by the door and put her hand up to the glass. It was cold and her hand grew wet.

Nymeria was sweating with her tongue hanging out her mouth. It almost looked like she was smiling at Arya. She had golden eyes. They were darker than the rest of the direwolves. The others had yellow. Except for Ghost and Shaggydog. Ghost had red eyes and Shaggydog had green. Nymeria’s though, they were golden. Gendry’s eyes had been blue. From the start. Then they’d changed completely once he resembled a beast. Her head hurt thinking about it. 

There was another howl. It hadn’t come from Nymeria. She looked at the rest of them. She would never be able to stop thinking about him. She moved back to the couch let her eyelids lazily hang over her eyes in hopes that it would make her feel more tired. Sleep hadn’t come for hours with the TV still running and Rickon snoring like he always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a boring chapter, I know. But, I wanted to put an update out there so I would pick up my muse. Tell me what you think! Give me suggestions for storylines/etc!  
> I'm best reached on Tumblr: curlyfray.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya goes out for coffee with Jon and sees a strange man across the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a year holy shit. I don't even know if anyone remembers this fic?? I hope they do??? Is Gendrya still alive?? God, I miss them. Half of this chapter was written last year half was written tonight and yesterday so if it's a bit seamed I apologize. It's also pretty short but I hope the next chapter will actually have something happen.

Jon was angry with her. Arya knew it for a fact when she turned on her phone and read his text. He’d invited her to  _ breakfast _ . He never invited her to breakfast unless he was going to talk to her like an adult. Adult Jon was annoying. She’d texted him no but he wasn’t having it. 

_ You don’t have any other plans _ . He sent.

_ Yes I do. _ She replied.

_ What are your plans then? _ He asked.

She furrowed her eyebrows and sucked in her lips. She typed something out and then backspaced. She repeated three times before something came to mind.

_ I have to cheer on Rickon at his baseball game.  _ She sent. She felt stupid immediately after. Jon would know if Rickon had a baseball game. 

_ I’ll see you in a half hour.  _ Jon sent back. Arya rolled her eyes and fell back onto her bed. Her phone remained in her hand, on her stomach. She tapped the tip of her nails against it and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She didn’t want to go out. She didn’t feel right about going out. Part of her was worried what she saw the night before was  _ real _ . But, it couldn’t be. It had to be a dream or a hallucination. Gendry had been talking an awful lot about drugging drinks. Maybe he slipped her a hallucinogenic.

She would believe that in a heartbeat if it weren’t for the fact that everything that had happened felt to real. And Jon had definitely picked her up and she definitely called him from the bathroom of the club last night at twelve something at night. She had definitely gotten scratched on her arm. She still felt the scooby-doo bandaids shift against her skin. 

She hopped to her feet and opened up the drawer of her dresser to pull out something to wear. She couldn’t wear the shirt she had on ever again. There was blood all over it and the material was shredded to pieces on her right sleeve. She couldn’t exactly throw it away so she took it off, rolled it into a ball, and stuck it underneath her dresser. 

She pulled out a long sleeved dark gray shirt from her top drawer and pulled it over her head. She would have to wear long sleeves for a while if she didn’t want her mom seeing the wound on her arm. Even if she did manage to come up with a creative lie her mother would still worry. She didn’t worry about Arya as much as she did Bran or Rickon but, she still  _ worried _ . Mostly about stupid things like the fact that Arya didn’t act as feminine as she’d like or how Arya would get all messy in the backyard when she was younger. Those things were irrational to worry about. This would make her go nuts.

Arya pulled on a pair of loose fitting jean shorts and slipped on her sandals. She was hoping breakfast with Jon wouldn’t last very long. Today was one of those rare days when she wanted to laze around the house by herself. Usually, Arya sociable. She could always strike up a conversation with someone or make a new friend. She wanted to be where the action was and dull moments weren’t appealing to her. Today was rare.

But, Jon was Jon and he wouldn’t let her live it down if she didn’t go. She could practically hear him interrogating her now. Predictably he would bombard her with unnecessary questions that she would give vague answers to. She was already rolling her eyes.

She strolled down the stairs with her hand slipping down the railing with each step. She was acting way more enthusiastic about her breakfast plans with Jon than she really was. It was uncharacteristic of her to be so cheerful. Especially at the rough age of sixteen. Her mother told her that seventeen was loads better but Arya was pretty sure it was just a creative way of telling her to suck it up and wait for things to get better. Anything Catelyn Stark said to her youngest daughter was just for the sake of getting her to shut up.

“And where are you going, young lady?” Catelyn asked. Her tone implied that Arya was doing something she wasn’t supposed to which wasn’t the case. 

“Out.” Arya responded, which only furthered this theory. She should know better by now than to push her mother’s buttons. Most of the time it was fun but other times it stressed her out.

“Where?” Catelyn asked, her chin high and her arms crossed. 

“To eat.” She stated. Catelyn didn’t even have to ask. “With Jon.”

There was a chance in her face when Jon’s name was mentioned. It had always been that way between them. If anyone were to claim that Catelyn Stark loved Jon like her own son they’d be lying. But, as the expression came it soon faded. Arya shook her leg impatiently, feeling the soreness of her gums as she ground her teeth. It was always a whole episode when it came to going out. Unless it was to school. Her mother  _ loved  _ it when she went to school. Although, Arya couldn’t agree in the slightest.

“Just Jon?” Catelyn asked. There was something in her blue eyes that made Arya want to antagonize her. But, she knew that would only prolong her breakfast with Jon. Maybe even turn it into lunch. 

“Yes, just Jon.” Arya promised. She wasn’t who was going to be there. Jon had made it seem like a brother-sister venture. She missed it when they hung out just the two of them. None of his pesky friends to talk over her or none of their siblings to complain and make stupid jokes. Even though hers and Jon’s were the stupidest. 

“Go along. But, text me when you’re on your way home.” Catelyn insisted. Arya shrugged her way past her, faintly giving a thumbs up as she made her way to and out the front door. 

Her pace slowed down once she was outside. The heat of the beating sun hitting her tanned skin. She squinted as she stumbled over to the red stained curb in front of her house and sat. She rested her chin on the palm of her hand while her elbow dug into her knee. She swung it around, moving the rest of her torso along with it as she waited. She should have brought sunglasses but, there was no way she was going back inside. She reached towards her back pocket and brought out her phone watching the screen blink on. No missed texts. 

Jon better be close, she thought silently. 

She opened her messages and began to type. 

_ Come on, I’m waiting. Impatiently!  _ She sent, hearing a whoosh sound as she did. She set her phone next to her on the sidewalk so she could have easy access to it if he texted back. 

Waiting for him only gave her more of an excuse to go over the events of last night. She exhaled a deep sigh and stared at a spot of tar on the concrete before her. She wasn’t sure what happened last night was even real. Maybe she was drugged by one of the creeps sitting next to her while she was busy talking to the attractive bartender and hallucinated all the rest. It seemed all too real to be the product of a hallucination. She remembered the heat of his breath and the way his hands felt against her bare skin. She remembered kissing him. And most of all she remembered the sheer terror she felt as he came towards her with claws and teeth bared. 

The scratch on her arm was proof enough that something had happened. If she told her parents they would just call her crazy. They would probably tell her they’re concerned about her mental health or whatever bullshit parents say when you tell them insane stories. Not to mention the fact that she was out drinking by herself in a bar she was far too young with. She’d have to mention the fact that she made out with a twenty year old guy right before he turned into a werewolf and attack her. Jon might understand but she couldn’t imagine how that conversation would go. She supposed it would be brought up at some point considering he was the one who picked her up last night. The sudden realization hit her as echoed a curse word or two.

Startled by a honk in front of her she jerked her head up. She blinked a few times, the view of of Jon’s burnt blue car came into view. She pushed herself up off the sidewalk and gripped the handle of the door. It was a shitty car so she really had to yank at it to get it open. She loved Jon but, he was too particular about cars. No volvos for him -- only piece of junk old cars that sucked his bank account dry. She couldn’t blame him. It was nice to have something to be passionate about. 

She rested her body against the leather seat and tugged the seatbelt over her. She always wore a seatbelt. After the driver’s safety course she took at school she preferred not to be a dumbass about it. Jon was just the same. She looked over at him, tousled hair and a gray-brown shirt underneath a firm black seatbelt. They were definitely related. She smiled at him but it wasn’t returned. His lips were pursed and his eyebrows raised as he began to drive out of their little cul de sac. 

“Oh, come on, what?” Arya asked. His eyebrows were furrowed now but he was looking straight forward. Safe driver. 

“You know what.” He murmured. She chewed on her lip trying to decide a witty come back. Nothing came to mind. She was too burdened by the pain in her arm. She refrained from gripping it and yelling out of pain. She was just considerate like that. She exhaled, her breath moving the stray strands of hair blowing past her as she rest her arm on the inside of the door. It felt better elevated but the added pressure made her hold her breath. 

Jon sighed next to her. It was the kind of sigh that filled an entire room. 

“What happened last night?” He asked. So paternal. It really was these moments that he reminded her of their dad. A leaderly man with morals that went on for miles. Arya wasn’t sure where her rebellious side came from.

“I told you the whole story.” Her voice was too uneven to sound like she was doing anything but lying. By the look on his face she knew he wasn’t buying it. “I went out to the club, had a few drinks. Went outside for a smoke and a dog mauled me. It happens to the best of us.”

“Why was there a stray dog in the city?” Jon asked. “Better question, what did you to do get mauled by a dog?”

“Why do you assume I’m the one who did something.” Arya asked. 

“Don’t dodge my questions by answering them with other question.” He said. She laughed and turned her head to him. The back of it pressed against the seat lazily.

“I don’t know and I may have tried to pet it. What can I say? I just assume all big dogs are friendly. I’m wrong. Lesson learned.” Arya said. She moved quickly with her words to avoid furthering the conversation. She felt antsy lying to him. Usually, Jon was the one person she could tell anything to. He stood out in a sea of people as the one person she could trust. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him with this information. It was just that thinking about it alone gave her a headache. If she barely believed it what motivated him to?

“Fine, this conversation isn’t over.” He said, he took a sharp turn and her arm landed against the door. The sharpness radiated throughout her body and she wound her eyes tightly shut. A small wince was enough to get Jon’s attention. 

“Does it really hurt that bad?” Jon asked. She nodded her head without thinking and let her breath out in one quick motion. There was a tingling in each slit on her arm that made it feel like she was being attacked all over again. It was like any bit of healing had been reverted in that one simple motion. “Jesus, Arya. Are you sure it wasn’t a werewolf that scratched you?” His tone implied he was joking but the irony made Arya feel all the more uneasy. 

The pain dulled with time and she opened her eyes slowly. Her breath was even but quick and she swallowed roughly. “I’m good now.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Where are we eating?” Arya interrupted.

“The coffee shop just up there.” Jon said, releasing one hand from ten and two to point forward. Thank god they were almost there. She felt a grumbling in her stomach that made her forget about her arm all together.

It took them all of five minutes to find a parking spot. She was glad it wasn’t packet. A bunch of people muttering their conversations. She couldn’t go another morning pretending she couldn’t hear them. Focus seemed more and more foreign as the day went on. It was like there was a bug in her head crawling around her brain. 

They tok a seat at one of the few tables by the window. Arya was glad hers was by a small big of wall in between window sills so she could rest her head against it. Jon ordered their food and coffee for her. It was his turn to pay so she didn’t feel the guilt she should have. She just let the free food come her way with a smile. Maybe coffee would make her feel less groggy. She shifted her head over to gaze out of the window.

Across the window stood a very tall man with tan skin and red hair accented with a streak of white. He looked a bit younger than her dad. His eyes popped out more than anything, sterling and blue. She furrowed her eyebrows. The way he stared at her from across the street made her feel uneasy. Suddenly, the pain in her arm increased. This time she didn’t need to bump it against anything to feel a surge of electricity through her body. She leaned forward and let out a gasp followed by a scream of agony. She wasn’t one for theatrics, usually. But, this pain was beyond anything she’d ever felt. When she opened her eyes lightly to get another look at him he was gone. 

Jon made his way to the table with a concerned look and set their coffees down in front of her. He crouched down next to her with that usual big brother look he always had. Knitted brows, an open mouth frown and an all over comforting aura. Arya settled back with her head rested against the wall behind her. She rolled her eyes back into her head as the pain dulled and her vision cleared. She let out a breath as her eyes opened to look at him. She knew he was waiting for the right moment to ask, and she was giving it to him. A curt nod of her head and he spoke.

“Are you alright?” He asked. His hand rested against the back of her chair and his other on the table to keep himself balanced. 

“Yeah, of course.” She said, scooting her bottom until it was at the very edge of the seat. She reached over and took the top off her cup. The aroma of french vanilla hit her nose and made a smile grow on her face. Jon stood up slowly and made his way around the table to his seat. He rested a three yellow packages of splenda and three partially crushed cups of creamer. He looked at her with a disgusted face and she rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know how you can take your coffee black.” He said. She shrugged and placed her lid back on the cup, taking a large sip and setting it back on the table. It was still hot but she ignored the way it burned at her tongue. He shifted where he sat and began to pour sugar packet after sugar packet into the cup. He looked up at her as he did it, somehow keeping his concentration keen. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you were in some pretty severe pain.”

“I’ll survive.” Arya took another large sip of her drink. It was starting to cool down. Jon took a sip of his and grimaced. She knew he wouldn’t be able to handle anything with less than six creamers. 

“I never got a good look at your wound last night.” He began. She swallowed roughly. “Let me get a look at it. Maybe you need stitches.”

“I don’t need  _ stitches _ Jon. Really, I’m fine.” She lied. Maybe she  _ did  _ need stitches and she was just pushing it down because she didn’t want to have to explain to a doctor that a stray scratched her arm. It didn’t look much like a dog scratch. Too sharp and precise. 

“I still think--” Jon began but she didn’t pay attention to hear the rest of it. Her gaze was directed to the growing line in front of the barista. The same man that she’d stared at from across the street. There was something about him that made her feel uneasy. Her wound wasn’t hurting this time. A small bit of bubbling but, it was tolerable enough for her to push back her cup of coffee and stand to her feet. Without telling Jon she was going she made her way to him. The closer she got the more she realized how much this man towered over her. She’d come across plenty of tall men in her life, she wasn’t about to be scared of this one.

“What’s your deal?” Arya asked, her voice echoing throughout the coffee shop. Nobody looked her way. Aside from Jon who was always keeping an eye out for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think!  
> I'm not sure. I suck.


End file.
